


A Child

by thesquirrelqueer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, MekaMechanic, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesquirrelqueer/pseuds/thesquirrelqueer
Summary: Hana goes into the woods to find a witch that will allow for her to have a child with her wife, Brigitte.





	A Child

It was a small house in the middle of a quiet forest with a thatched roof and smoke spilling out of the brick chimney. I consulted the map that Brigitte had given me. She had said I would find the witch’s home if I followed the path and the roses that grew off of it. Of course, Brig knew exactly what I was doing and how much our lives would change afterwards. When I left her that morning, she had lifted me into the air and planted a kiss on my cheek. She was excited for the outcome of the witch’s visit as much as I was.  
As I walked closer to the house, I saw the wooden entrance had been carved with multiple sigils, whose meanings I knew not. I could only guess that they were for protection as they were on the entryway. There was an iron wrought fence surrounding a yard growing hundreds of different types of plants; there were reddening tomatoes, just sprouting bean plants, and greens of every kind. She must grow them for her potions, I thought to myself. The fence had no lock, and as I placed my hand on it, a bit of the rusting iron dusted off onto my skirt. I brushed it off and pushed on the fence, which creaked open. There was a commotion from somewhere within the house. The smoke coming out of the chimney suddenly turned from a white mist to a dark blood color.  
“Fareeha! I told you, newt eye, not frog!” Shouted a surprisingly, young feminine voice.  
“So sorry, Angela!” A bright voice responded. I walked closer and knocked on the door. There was a silence before the door was opened by what I could only assume was Fareeha. She had olive skin and hair that fell almost to her shoulders. Her right eye had a tattoo under it which looked to be some sort of Egyptian symbol.  
“Who are you?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe.  
“I am Hana Song. I have come seeking help from the witch who lives here.” Fareeha scanned me up and down, before beckoning me to come in. The house was a lot smaller on the inside. On the other side of the room was a door that I could only assume lead to a staircase. The walls were covered with shelves upon shelves of god-knows-what in glass jars and thick books. Towards the back corner sat a small wooden table covered in even more books. A fourth of the room was taken up by a cauldron from which the same blood colored mist that I had seen before poured out from.  
Suddenly, the door to the supposed “stairs” flew open and out rushed a flustered woman carrying a jar of purple powder. Her blonde hair was placed in a messy bun and large pieces stuck out and framed her face. She hurriedly rushed over to the billowing cauldron and tossed a pinch of the purple powder into it. The mist calmed and turned back to white. She dusted the remaining powder onto her dead-leaf colored dress before turning to me and Fareeha. She raised her eyebrows and looked at Fareeha.  
“Who is this?” She pointed a gloved finger at me.  
Before Fareeha could respond, I interjected, “I am Hana Song and I have come to seek your help.”  
“You have come to the right place,” the woman replied, “I am Angela, the Witch of the Watch.”  
I graciously nodded my head at her. “I was hoping you could help out me and my wife Brigitte,” I began. “We would like very much so to have a child, but it is not possible. She sent me here in the hopes that you could help us in some way.”  
“Of course I can,” Angela chuckled. She ran over to one of the many shelves that covered the walls, searching for something, her hands and eyes skimming over titles. Finally, she pulled down a leather-bound book. She carefully walked to the table and plopped the it down. Dust filled the air.  
“Come hither,” she beckoned. Fareeha and I joined her at the table. The book Angela had taken out had no title or image on the front. She ruffled through it for a few moments before finding what she was looking for. A drawing on the page depicted two women holding a baby.  
“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the book.  
“It’s the Book of Sappho,” Fareeha answered.  
Angela stared at the page with the women for a few moments before nodding to herself. She clasped her hands to her chest as she began, “Right, so you said your wife’s name is Brigitte?” I nodded.  
“Yes, Brigitte Song.”  
“That should work.” Angela slipped off her gloves and glided over to a shelf before rummaging through an assortment of bottles. After about a minute of searching, she pulled down a seemingly empty, clear bottle. She brought it back to the table and handed it to me.  
“Is this all I need?” I turned the empty bottle in my hands.  
“Oh heavens no!” Angela chuckled, “I need you to speak your wife’s name into it for the potion to work.” I looked at the bottle, then back to her, raising an eyebrow.  
“Oh, trust me, it works.” She said, amused by my reaction.  
“How can you be so sure? Brigitte and I have been waiting for this for so long… If this doesn’t work, she’ll be heartbroken.”  
Angela sighed and opened the door next to the table. “Nijah! Come here please! There’s someone we’d like you to meet!” She called into it. There was a bit of shuffling behind the door, then from out behind it waddled a small girl of around four. Her hair and skin matched that of Fareeha, whom she stumbled over to.  
“Up!?” she asked, sticking her stubby fingers in the air. Fareeha swiped her up and kissed the child on the nose.  
“There’s someone mommy and I would like you to meet,” she told Nijah. “Hana, this is Nijah. She is mine and Angela’s daughter.”  
“Bubby,” Nijah pointing to my necklace, which I had almost forgotten about. It was a gift from Brigitte; a small rabbit made out of around ten white and pink stones. The child reached for it, her bright-blue eyes gleaming with excitement.  
“No no, Nijah, that’s not yours. That’s Hana’s,” she told her. Nijah pouted. Angela watched the scene unfold, smiling.  
“And she’s yours!?” I exclaimed, pointing between the two of them.  
“She sure is.” Angela wandered over to Fareeha and draped an arm around her shoulders. I smiled at the happy family. How I wished that could be me and Brigitte.  
“It works,” Angela said as if reading my thoughts. I snatched the bottle off of the table and fumbled to get the cork out. Raising it to my lips, I whispered Brigitte’s name and instantly the bottle was filled with a hot pink liquid that smelled like motor oil.  
“What the f-”  
“Language!” Fareeha scolded.  
“Fudge,” I finished. Nijah giggled.  
“All you need to do now is drink it,” Angela explained.  
“I need to do what now?” I stared at her.  
“Drink it.”  
“Um… okay…” I pinched my nose and downed the whole bottle in one gulp. It burned like whiskey. Fareeha placed a hand on my shoulder.  
“How do you feel?” She asked.  
“Kinda like I wanna get home to my wife as soon as possible.” The two of them laughed. Angela came up to me grasped my hands in her own.  
“I wish you the best of luck with your child, Hana.”  
“Thank you.” I bowed my head at the both of them, then hurried back home.  
\---  
I woke up in middle of the night to crying coming from Dae’s crib. Brigitte’s hair was in my face, and I shook her to wake her up.  
“Whaaaaaat,” She replied sleepily. I shook her again. It took her a moment to realize Dae was crying.  
“It’s your turn to change her.” I rolled back over as Brigitte sighed and the weight on the other side of the mattress lessened. After a few minutes, the crying ceased, and all I could hear in the darkness was Brigitte singing a lullaby to our child.


End file.
